


Lick

by mskatej



Category: Smallville
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Porn, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-15
Updated: 2007-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 01:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mskatej/pseuds/mskatej
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark and Lois pick up where they left off. With spectacular results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lick

Lois opens the door abruptly and stares up at Clark in surprise.

“Clark!” she squeaks. “Hi!” Then she spins around on her heel and strides back into the room so he won’t be able to see her face. What the hell is he doing here?

“Hi Lois,” she hears him say, but she can’t turn around again, because her cheeks are burning and she’s probably bright red and, God, what’s he _doing here_?

“You here to see Chloe?” she shouts over her shoulder, taking a quick peek and catching a glimpse of him hovering in the doorway uncertainly. “Because she’s not here!” She heads into the kitchen and when she’s out of sight she grabs hold of the edge of the counter, clutches her stomach with her other hand, and hyperventilates for a few seconds.

Perhaps he’ll leave now. Unless Clark’s here to see Lois and _not_ Chloe, of course. Which isn’t beyond the realms of possibility, she supposes. Not anymore.

She pokes her head back out the kitchen door and Clark is standing in the middle of the living room, looking at her blankly.

“Oh,” he says, swallowing. “I could come back later.”

Lois breathes out in relief, and walks back towards him, nodding. “Good plan, Smallville.” She stops in front of him and slips her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. “She’ll be back in a few hours,” she tells him.

Clark doesn’t move an inch, and is he waiting for Lois to say something? Because the only thing she might have to say to him right now is, “It was a mistake.” But that seems cruel so she’ll just keep her mouth shut instead.

“So...about...” Oh no. He’s actually trying to talk about it.

She waves her hand between them. “Forget about it.” But she says it so quickly it sounds like, “forgedibada” and Clark frowns at her in confusion. “We don’t have to talk about that,” she says, a little slower, shaking her head and grimacing.

“Okay,” Clark agrees, nodding. “I guess I’ll—” he turns his head towards the door, indicating his intention to leave, and Lois feels suddenly offended although she has no idea why.

That was too easy. And maybe she’s not quite ready for Clark to not be here. The way he smells—of wind and hay and soap and something else that’s bordering on tangy—is comforting and nice. He’s turning, turning, about to walk away, so Lois reaches out and places a hand on his chest, shoving him back around. He blinks at her.

“Maybe we should talk about what happened,” she says in her most serious voice, but it just seems to have the effect of making Clark smile at her a little mockingly.

“Okay,” he says, and great, now he’s waiting for her to do all the work. Lois thinks back to the party on Saturday and wonders if it’s really such a big deal.

“It’s not really a big deal, right?” she says. “So we kissed! People kiss all the time and it doesn’t mean anything.”

Clark nods. “We made out with each other for two hours in the master bedroom, Lois.”

Pow! The memory of that hits her straight between her eyes. And legs. They really had made out for a long time now that she thinks about it. All because of an unfortunately placed piece of mistletoe. It’s May for Christ’s sake.

“But we didn’t...” she trails off. She was barely even drunk and she knows Clark was sober, so it’s not like she doesn’t know exactly what went on between them. Why couldn’t she have been drunk?

“We didn’t what?” Clark says, his voice soft and a bit husky. He’s staring down at her now and he’s so _big_. Big and tall and...hard.

No no no, she did not just think about Clark being hard. And big.

She’d felt it too, how hard and big he is, when they were in the bedroom at that party. Every time the door opened, and some party-goer popped their head into the room before quickly apologizing and shutting the door again, they’d stop what they were doing.

They’d look at each other, embarrassed, and they’d agree to stop, to give up, to go back to the party. Except they didn’t stop, or give up, and the only thing Lois remembers about the party is what went on in that room.

Lots and lots of kissing. Clark denying that he’s the Green Arrow between kisses. The two of them standing up, leaning against the door, her arms wound around his neck; Clark on the chair in front of the vanity mirror with Lois on his lap, her tongue in his mouth and one of his hands resting high on her thigh; Clark lying on his back on the bed, Lois on top of him, straddling him, the muscles in her thighs stretched taut, grinding down onto him...and yes. He’d been hard. And _big_.

Then...

“We didn’t...uh...”

They’d been at it for hours, still both fully dressed, but they were on the bed, hot and sweaty and turned on; Lois had been ready to amp things up a notch, and she’d pulled at Clark’s t-shirt. Once it was off there was no going back, and Lois remembers how much she’d wanted him then.

The skin on her forehead is starting to prickle, and Clark is closer than he was a second ago. Had she moved or had he? They’re breathing all over each other. Is Clark thinking about the other night as well? He looks a little bit dazed, so he probably is, yes.

He’d taken her dress off. They were there, at a party, in someone else’s bedroom, on someone else’s bed, Clark shirtless and Lois dress-less, and she hadn’t been wearing a bra because it was a strapless dress. She was clad only in panties and strappy high heels and Clark was in jeans, and his chest was bare and smooth and tanned and muscular, and Lois had liked the way his skin tasted.

“No, we didn’t,” Clark murmurs.

Because after Clark had flipped her onto her back and sucked on her nipples—one, then the other, then back again—and after he’d slid his fingers over her panties, and in between her legs, rubbing her through the damp material, pushing it aside with the tips of his fingers and—

The damn door had opened again. They’d both groaned in frustration and looked over to see Chloe standing in the light, staring at them with wide, shocked eyes. Clark had leapt off the bed like Lois was suddenly poisonous to touch, and it took Chloe another ten seconds of gaping before she quite visibly pulled herself together and fled, looking like she’d just witnessed a particularly horrifying car crash.

That had killed the mood completely and they’d gotten dressed in silence and left the party with their heads hanging, going in opposite directions the moment they were outside.

This is the first time they’ve seen each other since, and wow, he’s so close.

Close enough to smell, close enough to touch.

“I’ve been...” Clark’s hand floats up between them, stopping at breast-level, and it’s only an inch away from making contact with her. Lois sways into the touch, and when his fingers graze one of her nipples they both suck in a breath. Clark blows his out, cool on Lois’s cheek, and finishes his sentence. “...thinking about you.”

That’s it, that’s all she needs to hear. She grabs his head in her hands and plants her mouth onto his again. And this time? There’s no _way_ they’re spending hours on foreplay _this_ time.

“My bedroom!” she gasps, leaping into Clark’s arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. She feels like-- God, what is the matter with her? She wants to be naked, she wants Clark’s hands and mouth and tongue on her, and she wants it right _now_.

Clark slams the door behind them once they’re inside and Lois thumps him on the arm.

“Did you have to slam it?” she squawks, but his apology gets lost inside her mouth when he kisses her again. Then he lays her down on the bed and crawls up her body, and the look on his face makes Lois shudder with arousal. He looks excited.

“Take your t-shirt off,” she says.

He’s breathless and his body is radiating an intense amount of heat. “Okay.” He shucks his t-shirt, falls down on top of Lois, catching himself on his elbows, and kisses her passionately.

It’s a good thing that he’s as anxious to get naked as Lois is; he pulls her shirt up and off and flings it to the side, and Lois reaches behind herself and unhooks her bra, then lets him take it off her. She arches up off the bed, pushing her breasts towards him, and when one of her nipples is suddenly encased in wet warmth, she moans so loudly Clark laughs, and she feels it vibrating right through her.

His head is moving downwards now, mouth on her belly, kissing and sucking, big hands sliding down her sides, over her waist and hips, tugging her jeans and panties down as he goes. He swirls his tongue around inside her belly button, and she wriggles around to make it easier for him to remove her underwear.

God, she’s naked. She’s naked and wet, so _wet_ , and he’s still got his jeans on, but it doesn’t matter because he’s running curious fingers over her pubic hair, then her clit, between her legs, inside her. He has two fingers inside her, as if that’s a normal thing for Clark to be doing to Lois.

It doesn’t feel normal at all, but it does feel incredible, and it does make it impossible for Lois not to move her hips, wanting it deeper, harder, more.

Clark is good at this, really good, and that comes as a huge surprise to Lois, because she’d never considered Clark to be a sexual person before. Not until that damn party at any rate.

Sometimes it’s great to be wrong.

His mouth is on her belly again, just above her bush and he’s fucking her with his fingers, kissing her hair, and...oh God oh God oh God, that’s his tongue, flicking over her clit.

“Clark!” she gasps, high pitched, surprised. Is he really going to?

She stares down at the top of his head and widens her eyes when he glances up at her, a mischievous smile on his face. He doesn’t break eye contact either, as his tongue slips out of his mouth, long and pink and glistening, and he licks a stripe, from her opening, over her labia to her clitoris, which he teases with the tip of his tongue, then he licks his lips with satisfaction.

“Clark,” she whimpers. “Oh God.”

He looks down again, inspecting her pussy curiously, rubbing a thumb up and down over it, sliding fingers into her again, then out, then he buries his mouth into her hungrily.

Lois throws her head back and bucks up. If Clark’s happy down there, Lois is happy. Legs spread and knees bent, she starts fucking his face with abandon, and she knows it’s good for him because he grunts with appreciation while he sucks and licks.

“Oh, oh, oh—” She knows her moans are increasing in volume but it’s not her fault! It’s most definitely Clark’s fault. Or maybe it’s Clark’s tongue’s fault. How is he _doing_ that? He’s a human vibrator. Lois has never had oral sex this good before. Clark is a genius, an absolute _genius_.

Her muscles are becoming rigid and her skin is so hot and wet it feels like she might spontaneously combust. Just a few more seconds, a few more; she looks back down at Clark, who seems to be having the time of his life, and she catches a glimpse of his nose and top lip, shiny with her juices. Her right foot twitches hard and the pleasure continues to intensify, and then—

She wails loudly and shoves herself into his mouth, coming so hard she loses her vision, shakes and shakes and shakes, and Clark keeps licking her through all the aftershocks.

Lois can’t breathe properly, panting hard and trying to get air, and the sight of Clark’s face—which appears above her, seemingly from nowhere—doesn’t help. His face is wet, with sweat and her, and he looks extremely pleased with himself. Extremely turned on too. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and kisses her hard.

“Clark,” she chokes when he pulls away. “That was—”

But Clark isn’t listening to her. He’s undoing his belt and pushing his jeans down, getting naked, straddling her and rubbing his erection into her belly.

This is good though, because Lois really doesn’t have any energy right now, so if Clark can get himself off on her then good for him.

Through her post-orgasm haze, Lois considers the oddness of the situation: Clark Kent, naked, thrusting against her, panting, cock hard and long and leaking at the tip. How on earth did this happen?

Who cares. All thoughts slip out of her mind except one: what would it feel like to have Clark inside her? It seems vitally important that she finds out.

“Stop,” she croaks, and he does so instantly, but he’s breathing hard and frowning at her. “Let me get you a condom.”

His eyes widen and it occurs to her that maybe he hadn’t considered actually fucking her. But he’s going to because it’s what Lois wants and this time she’s going to get it. He nods and Lois rolls over and retrieves a condom out of her bedside table.

She rolls back over to Clark, who’s waiting for her, his mouth open and eyes slightly unfocused, tears open the wrapper, pulls out the condom and slides it down over his cock. She strokes him a few times, enjoying his soft whimpers, then lies back and opens her legs in invitation.

He stares at her pussy for a few long moments then shuffles up the bed and climbs in between her thighs.

“Are you sure?” he asks her, hand wrapped around the base of his cock, eyes searching her face for signs of doubt. Lois smiles up at him and reaches down. She takes him in her hand and rubs the head of his cock up and down her pussy until it’s in exactly the right spot.

Clark’s mouth falls open even further and he doesn’t move for a second, then he gently starts to push. They groan in unison, long and loud, as he fills her up entirely.

“You’re so big!” Lois gasps.

“Am I hurting you?” Clark asks anxiously.

“Noooo. God no. It feels amazing.”

Clark sighs with relief and pulls out nearly all the way, before sinking back inside and holding himself there. He’s shuddering and Lois thinks he probably won’t last long, which is a shame. His mouth falls onto hers and he pushes his tongue inside, moaning at the same time.

Then he starts to move. In and out of Lois, big, hard dick in and out of her. Slow at first, almost lazy, and thank God he’s got control. He’s taking his time, he’s fucking her properly, he doesn’t want this to be over any more than Lois does.

It gets quicker and harder after a while and does he ever get tired? Lois needs a change of scenery.

“Let me go on top,” she says and Clark’s eyes flare up. He rolls over, pulling Lois up on top of him effortlessly without even taking his cock out of her. He’s so _strong_. It makes Lois feel like she weighs absolutely nothing and that’s a serious turn on she doesn’t mind admitting.

Now she gets to ride him. She sits up on her knees and cups her breasts in her hands, fondling them as she bounces. Clark clutches her thighs and stares at her; yeah, Lois knows it’s a porn star move but she also knows that it works, and it’s thrilling watching Clark get more and more excited, thrusting into her harder and harder.

“You’re so sexy, Lois,” he whispers shakily. Fucks her. He’s fucking her. Hard and good. Perfect. He looks amazing. His hair is messy and his face is wet and his lips are red, and has Lois been blind all these years? How had she not noticed how goddamn _hot_ Clark is?

It feels so good. She’s going to come again in a second, and she just hopes she does before he does.

The race is on! She grips his shoulders in her hands and rides him hard and fast and there it is, there it is, oh God yes yes yes yes yes she’s coming, she’s coming and it’s severe and it’s not stopping. Clark’s thrusting up so hard they’re practically flying off the bed. He gasps out her name and that’s it, he’s coming too, he’s having an orgasm with his dick inside her, and it looks like it’s just as intense as Lois’s.

When it’s over she lies on top of him and buries her face into his neck. He’s sopping wet and he smells amazing.

“Wow,” Clark whispers.

Lois smiles into his skin. “Yeah,” she agrees, sliding off him and collapsing onto her back.

They don’t say another word for about ten minutes. But whenever Lois looks over at Clark he’s got a serene smile on his face, which makes her smile too.

“You know,” she says. His head falls to the side and he looks at her inquisitively. “Maybe you should think about leaving before Chloe gets back. We don’t want her head to explode after all.”

“Oh yeah,” he replies. “Although I bet I could sneak out of here without her even noticing.”

“Is that your way of telling me you don’t plan to leave?”

“Well, I mean, I’ll leave if you want me to,” he says. “Or we could...”

She narrows her eyes at him. “We could what?”

“We could do it again.”

Lois wonders if he’s joking even though he looks quite sincere. She glances down involuntarily and sees that Clark has another erection. “Jesus,” she whimpers. “I’m kinda exhausted, Clark.”

He rolls over and kisses her on the mouth, slow and wet and deep. “Don’t worry,” he whispers into her ear. “I’ll do all the work.”

She gasps and shuts her eyes, as Clark’s head moves south once more.


End file.
